


Special Delivery

by phantasticworks



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Banter, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Packages, Strangers to Friends, delivery, friends to lovers? not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 20:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17946704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantasticworks/pseuds/phantasticworks
Summary: Dan Howell receives a package he definitely didn't order, but the man who did order it is... well, he's rather interesting. And the object he's ordered... well, it's odd, to say the least.





	Special Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't much and it's not my best but I'm focusing on school and my longer phanfic right now (which I'm so excited for everyone to see eek) so this is rather short and light.

If there was one thing Dan could complain about, it was the fact that his Amazon deliveries always came at an ungodly time of morning. It wasn’t like he slept that late, but on the days that he did, it always seemed like those were the very days a package was delivered. And he couldn’t just sleep through it; the way the apartment complex handled package delivery forced him to get out of bed when he heard the buzzing to let the delivery guy come upstairs. It was totally inconvenient of course, but for some reason Dan didn’t feel that he should just stop online shopping. Where else was he meant to get cool video game character collectibles and anime merch?

Despite his total aversion to waking early, it was unavoidable on this particular Thursday, because at some ungodly hour of the morning, the buzzer goes off. He groans into his pillow, cursing every god and goddess he can think of, then realizing that maybe he should be asking them to curse the delivery guy instead. Rather than wallow in his misery and let the incessant buzzing continue, he shoves himself out from under his duvet and goes to the front door where the intercom was located. 

“Yeah?” He says, putting as much malice and hatred into the one syllable word. It was early, too early for kindness and things like manners. 

“Er- I have a package?” The voice says, sounding timid. Dan figures it’s probably someone new, as he generally didn’t have people who were this afraid in the face of his anger. 

“Alright,” Dan smashes the button to allow him inside before moving over to the kitchen. If he was already awake he might as well make some coffee and get his day started. 

As he goes through the motions of turning the kettle on, he begins pondering which of his purchases was meant to arrive today. The more he thought of it, however, the more confused he was. He didn’t remember ordering anything that was meant to get here this soon. The last thing he had ordered was a cool jacket he found online, and he had only ordered that two days ago. It definitely hadn’t been long enough for it to arrive yet. 

He sighs and just opts to wait and see what it is. Sometimes when he was lonely and drinking by himself he would order things and had real no recollection of them until they arrived, so it was like giving himself a little surprise every time. He hadn’t had one of his pity solo drinking parties recently, though, so again, he’s quite puzzled.

As he pours his coffee into the Hello Kitty mug (it held more liquid, okay?) there was a knock at the door, indicating the surprise package was finally there. He tries not to be too annoyed with the delivery guy, as he was just doing his job, but it was difficult not to be as it was because of him that Dan was up at such an ungodly hour. After checking the time, he notices that it’s actually already nine; so maybe it’s not like super early, but it was early for him. 

“Sign here,” the delivery man says the second Dan opens the door. Dan quirks an eyebrow but shrugs and takes the clipboard, signing his name neatly on the line. “Thanks, here you go.” The man seems to shrink in on himself as he hands the box to Dan, and suddenly he feels a little guilty for being sort of hateful to him when he buzzed him in. Before he gets the chance to apologize, however, the man is gone, down the hall and out of sight. 

“Okay…” Dan mutters to himself as he closes the door and carries the package to the kitchen. He really didn’t know what was in this, and it was much too small to be the jacket he had ordered, but he assumed it was probably yet another one of those dumb things he’d ordered on a whim without properly thinking it through. 

Taking a knife from the drawer beside his sink, he slices across the top of the box, barely glancing at the label in his hurry to get it open. After successfully opening it without any damage to himself, he flips it over, shaking the contents out. It’s only after he flips it that he thinks of the possible repercussions of this, but luckily, what falls out sounds very plasticky. 

Now, Dan was certain he’d ordered his fair share of useless things in his life, but he was pretty certain he would remember ordering a new dildo. 

Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly what this is. 

After a little closer inspection, Dan realizes that although it is definitely phallic-shaped, it’s also got a very distinctive pickle-shape to it. So, unless he was just projecting his desire to get laid on this object, it was decidedly not a sex toy. That in no way lessens his apprehension of the object, however. If anything, it just makes him warier. 

Slowly, as if moving too quickly would bring him some sort of pain, he slowly picks up the object to inspect it. It was definitely nothing he’d ever seen in his life, that was for sure. After flipping it over a few times, he realizes there’s little holes on one side, indicating that it should make some sort of sound. This just makes him even more curious, so naturally when he finds a little battery compartment with a slip of plastic to pull out, he does it almost immediately.

Now, when he presses the button on the side, he’s definitely not expecting much. It’s a pickle, he’s decided, so really all he expects is maybe a Rick and Morty reference. The ungodly sound that leaves the phallic-shaped device is absolutely not that, however, so when it begins yodeling, he drops it immediately, almost flinging it to the floor in his haste to get away from it. 

“What the absolute fuck,” he breathes, staring down at it with wide eyes. It’s nearly vibrating on the floor as it continues making the sound, and if he was less shocked, he’d probably have stomped on it to destroy it. 

Now, fully deducing that he had not been the one to order this cursed object, he quickly grabs the box from the counter and flips it over, reading the name on the label. 

Phil Lester 

Well, whoever Phil Lester was could probably be considered a creepy fucker in Dan’s book, just from this one object. After realizing that the pickle has finally gone silent, Dan debates what he should do. He glances down at the label on the box again, and suddenly the mix up makes sense. On the second line of the recipient address, at the end of the line, is the numbers 906. Dan’s apartment was 609. That explains the mix up, at least on the delivery man’s part. 

Sighing loudly, Dan debates what he should do. Would it be acceptable to call the delivery service and just demand they come retrieve it and deliver it to the proper person themselves? Or would it be easier on everyone if he just sucked it up and went up a couple floors to deliver the package himself? 

After several moments of heavy debate, he groans before stomping to his bedroom to put some proper clothes on. If he was going to be a good person and deliver the damn thing, he was going to have to put some actual clothes on first. It was only as he was tugging on a pair of sweatpants that he realizes he answered the door in just his boxers earlier. Maybe that explains some of the awkwardness of the delivery man, actually.

After tugging on a white long-sleeved tee, he grabs his phone and the box, sticking the pickle back in with as much distaste as he can. It really was such an offending object. He honestly didn’t know who this Phil Lester guy was, but he imagined he’d be meeting a shifty fifty-year-old pervert in about five minutes, if he were to guess. 

The journey up to the ninth floor of his building is uneventful, as most people are probably at work right now, on a Thursday morning, so he didn’t run into any other residents of the apartment complex. He’s thankful for this, actually, because he doesn’t think he can handle anymore forced conversation then he absolutely has to, and this interaction of his special delivery was going to fill his socializing quota for the day. 

He’s writing a whole script in his head of exactly what to say to the man he was about to meet, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for why he opened it without reading the name. Honestly, though, he’d been so traumatized by the whole pickle experience, he felt that he didn’t really owe anyone an explanation. If anything, this Phil guy would owe him payments for a therapist after this. 

Having worked himself up into a proper state of irritation when he reaches the door with the number 906 on it, he knocks three times, sharply. He stands with his arms crossed, the small box clutched in his left hand and tucked under his arm. Impatiently, he taps his foot as he waits, fueling his annoyance for this whole situation as he waits for the door to open. 

There’s the sound of footsteps and then the door is swinging open, and Dan has a glare on his face, ready to chew out this absolute freak for ordering such a cursed thing, but the words die in his throat as the occupant comes into view. The man standing there raises an eyebrow at Dan, clearly wondering who the hell he is and what he wants, although that’s not what catches Dan’s attention. He can’t be much older than Dan, maybe a few years, but he’s got to be one of the most attractive men he’d ever laid eyes on. 

He’s got black hair that looks like it’s been dipped in ink, quiffed up away from his forehead, which is a little wide. Distracting from that, however, is his glasses, which sit slightly skewed on his nose, making him only that much more endearing, honestly. Dan’s eyes dart down to take in his clothes, and he nearly snorts at the NASA shirt and black jeans. He looked adorable and slightly dorky, and absolutely Dan’s type. 

Dan nearly swears as he realizes that the man before him is very much not a pervert, but then he realizes he’s just standing there staring at him and not speaking. So, like the idiot he apparently is, he remembers the box in his hand and shoves it forward, nearly hitting the man in the process. “Here,” he mumbles out. 

The man, Phil, he’s assuming, takes the box, glancing at it in confusion before his blue eyes dart back up to meet Dan’s. “Um…” He starts, looking a little lost for words. 

“Sorry, uh-“ Dan shakes himself. Get it together. You can’t lose your shit just because he’s cute, you know. “The post came, and I online shop a lot, so I just assumed it was mine and didn’t read the name before opening it, so yeah, I’m here to return it.” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, chewing his lip thoughtfully before nodding to the box. “Uh, interesting buy there, though.” Then he blushes, realizing how weird it was for him to actually know what it was that this stranger had ordered. 

The ebony haired man looks confused for a moment before he pulls one of the flaps on the box open, inspecting the contents of the box. “Oh,” he gasps out, reaching in and pulling it out, his face lighting up. He catches Dan’s uncomfortable gaze then, and something crosses his face before his cheeks flush. He must’ve realized how strange the object looked at first sight, and by the look on his face now, he was embarrassed that someone else had been unfortunate enough to open it. “I am so sorry, oh my god- I know this looks like a- well, um…” He presses his lips together and looks down at it before quickly dropping it into the box. 

Dan, more comfortable with the situation now that Phil’s embarrassed too, shrugs. “Looks a bit like a dildo, mate.” He smirks when Phil’s eyebrows shoot up, their gazes meeting before Phil quickly looks away. 

“Erm, yeah.” Phil sounds incredibly uncomfortable, and Dan almost feels guilty for saying it. Almost. 

“I’m Dan, by the way,” he says after a moment of silence. He doesn’t hold his hand out for a handshake, being the awkward human he is, but Phil just nods. 

“I’m Phil, but I guess you figured that out,” he laughs quietly, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck in what Dan thinks is probably a nervous habit. 

Dan smirks at this before nodding. “Yeah. Nice to meet you, Phil.” Considering his job done, Dan takes one last appraising look at Phil before smirking once more, lifting a hand up to give a little salute. “See you around, mate. Have fun with your…well, you know.” 

If it’s even possible, Phil’s cheeks flush even more, bringing Dan to stifle a giggle as he walks away. Just as he’s taking a few strides away from the door, he hears the other man’s voice call his name. Turning back around, he hums in question. Phil hesitates before holding up the box. “This is for a video. I don’t just buy yodeling pickles for myself.” He looks very concerned as he says this, as if he’s very concerned about what Dan leaves thinking about him. 

Dan only smiles, shrugging. “Sure thing, Phil. Have a good day.” 

He’s not positive, but he thinks that just before the door shuts, he hears a quiet, “I promise I’m not weird.” 

Either way, he knows this man is weird, but he thinks he might just like that. 

\---

It’s nearly three weeks before another incident happens. This time, however, Dan feels that it’s almost the universe’s way of telling him that he should’ve done more than just stare at Phil last time, like maybe ask for his number, or something intelligent. Regardless, this time when Dan receives the package, he’s careful to read the name on it first. He almost calls the delivery guy back to tell him he’d brought it to the wrong door yet again, but he decides against it. After all, he can’t look at Phil if the delivery guy takes the package to him. 

So instead, he pulls on his shoes and grabs his phone before making his way up three floors to room 906 yet again. He’s humming to himself as he goes, in a surprisingly good mood for once. The delivery hadn’t been at an ungodly hour for once, so he was actually quite pleased with the day’s events. Maybe this time he’ll be less sleep deprived and more able to hold an actual conversation with the cute stranger who orders questionable things. 

He raps on the door three times, stepping back and rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits patiently for the door to open. This time, he promises himself, he’ll ask for Phil’s phone number, maybe flirt a little more. He didn’t honestly think he had a chance, but there was really nothing stopping him. He was in a reasonably good place for once, so it made perfect sense for him to shamelessly flirt with the cute guy on the ninth floor, and who knows, maybe it’ll go somewhere. 

All of his optimism comes crashing down, however, when the door swings open, revealing a man who is very much not Phil. And as if his mind has blanked and he doesn’t know how to properly speak to a stranger, the only thing Dan can think of is-

“You aren’t Phil.” 

The man, who’s shirtless, Dan notices with a blush, regards him with a blank expression before letting out a sharp laugh. “Well, no, I’m not.” He sounds friendly enough, but something about the fact that he’s in Phil’s flat, shirtless, really annoys Dan. His subconscious helpfully adds that he doesn’t look like that when he’s shirtless, and Dan struggles to shove that voice away. 

He realizes that the Adonis look alike is standing there looking at him, an impatient look on his face as he waits for Dan to speak. “Oh, er-“ he quickly hands over the package. “Phil’s package got sent to my flat again, I was just bringing it up to him.” He shrugs then, tucking his hands in his pockets. 

Adonis looks down at the package, a look of understanding on his face. “Oh, thanks! What did you say your name was?” He asks, glancing up at Dan with an easy, polite smile. 

“Er- I didn’t,” Dan mumbles awkwardly, mentally slapping himself as he takes a step back. “Anyway, have a nice day!” 

As quickly as possible, and ignoring the confused, “Wait!” thrown his way, Dan hurries to the elevator, seriously wishing he could crawl under his blankets for the next month after that embarrassment. 

How could he let himself seriously get his hopes up over some guy he didn’t even know? Like sure he’s cute and probably dorky if his NASA shirt and stupid mismatched socks and glasses were any indication, and maybe he did make interesting online purchases that made Dan want to know more, but he couldn’t honestly expect anything after only this much information. He forces himself to keep this in mind as he goes back to his own flat, reminding himself again that he needed to let it go. It wasn’t a big deal; hell, it wasn’t even a small one. He was just delivering packages that had been misdelivered in the first place, and if the cute recipient had a boyfriend that looked like a Greek god, then that was really none of his business, was it?

\--- 

“Fuck,” Dan whimpers. He was currently in what some could consider a compromising position, but as he lived alone and was a twenty-seven-year old man, he felt that it was well within his rights to be laying in his bed at eleven on a Friday morning, working a hand over himself in the safety of his room. He was chewing on his bottom lip harshly, trying to quiet himself as much as possible. He knew he was alone, but sometimes whenever he had the occasional hookup he was reminded of how loud he was in the bedroom, a fact that made him incredibly self-conscious. So sometimes when he was alone, getting himself off, he would try and train himself to be quieter. Sometimes he thought he was making a lot of practice, but then other times it would dawn on him that he just got louder as he got closer to his release, and when his head was swimming with pleasure it was difficult to focus on much else. 

On this particular morning, he had been working over himself for nearly ten minutes, slightly edging himself (he had nothing better to do) and he knew his body well enough to know he was getting close. He felt incredibly wound up and he knew just a few more strokes and he’d be gone. 

Just as he feels he’s about to burst, however, he’s completely interrupted by a knock on his front door. His flat wasn’t very large, and it was kind of open plan aside from the door separating the bedroom to the rest of the flat, so when someone was knocking at his door, he could hear the sound very well through his bedroom door. A little too well, if he was being honest. 

Embarrassingly, even as he jumps at the sound, the thought of someone being so close, yet so unaware of what he’s doing, is enough to send him over the edge. He has the common sense as the pleasure is washing over him to cover his mouth, thoroughly stifling the obnoxious whine that was breaking free as he came over his hand. He barely has any time to be disgusted with himself before the knocking has returned, and he scrambles to get up and clean himself up. 

“Goddammit,” he mutters sourly as he grabs a dirty t-shirt from the floor, cleaning himself quickly before tucking himself back into his pants neatly. He cringes as he passes the mirror by his bedroom door, catching a good look of himself as he does. His hair was a right mess and his face was flushed with pleasure. There was little doubt what he’d just gotten up to, but there was literally no time to waste as he had to go answer the door. 

He’s muttering to himself, cursing out whoever is on the other side of the door as he walks over, because whoever it is has to be the most inconsiderate, selfish- he swings the door open then, and his inner monologue hushes. 

There, looking rather sheepish, is Phil Lester. He waves shyly, looking a little awkward as he does it. “Hi, there.” 

Dan had honestly almost forgotten all about the incident with Phil, as it had been about a month and a half since he had taken the package up to his flat, only to be met with Adonis’ twin instead of Phil himself. During that time, he’d come to terms with how silly he had been to feel so attracted to the man, and after he realized that it hadn’t taken him long at all to forget about the whole thing entirely, or at least repress it enough for it to be manageable. 

Granted, in this time of repressing Dan had plenty of time to remember stupid things, like how Phil’s glasses sat just so on his nose, and the fact that he had worn mismatched socks, one blue with pizzas all over it while the other had been green and covered in little neon flamingoes. So, really, he hadn’t completely forgotten about the stranger; but standing before him now, he realized that he had probably done him the injustice of misremembering him for how attractive he truly was. 

Today, Phil stood wearing a pair of black skinny jeans like before, but unlike last time, he’s wearing a green hoodie that’s got a few well-placed holes in it, clearly a bold fashion choice, that Dan personally thinks looks fantastic. His glasses are gone this time, probably replaced with contacts, and it takes Dan a moment of just looking at him to realize he’s not empty handed. “Um… hi?” He stutters out, confused. 

Phil shifts, his gaze dropping to the box. His cheeks appear a little flushed, and Dan wonders if he looks even more fucked out than he thought. He sends up a little prayer that he doesn’t have any… evidence… of his most recent activity anywhere visible on his clothes, but a discreet glance down proves that he doesn’t. “I feel this is a little backwards,” Phil laughs out awkwardly, holding the box out to Dan. “I got your package this time.” 

Dan’s surprised, one, because this has happened yet again, even if it is in the opposite direction, and two, because he doesn’t really remember ordering… oh. Oh no. 

As he takes the narrow package from Phil, his cheeks flush. It’s not until it’s in his hands that he realizes that there’s small strips of scotch tape holding it closed, meaning it had already been opened. This just causes him to feel even more embarrassed, because if his guess is correct, the item in this box is a little less… innocent than the one that Phil had received. One glance up at Phil, who is chewing his lips as he stares at the box, a rosy tint to his cheeks, proves that what he’s thinking is exactly what is in this box. 

“Um… thank you,” Dan stammers out, his finger brushing along the tape that was carefully placed on the box. 

Phil’s eyes follow this action, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath before opening them and bringing his gaze up to meet Dan’s. “I may have… well, I did accidentally open it, thinking it was mine. I was expecting a package I was really excited to get, and I just-“ 

Dan cuts him off then, a sudden flare of annoyance rising up, completely unwarranted since he’d done the exact same thing. But when he speaks his voice his bitter, and he almost immediately regrets it. “Oh, were you expecting a vibrator too?” He snaps.

He holds his breath after speaking, his eyes widening in surprise at himself. He honestly hadn’t expected that kind of reaction, even from himself. But there it was in the open, and now he just had to wait for Phil’s reaction. He waits with bated breath, pretty certain the man in front of him was about to blush and stammer out an awkward goodbye before putting as much distance between them as possible. 

Since he was so certain that was the reaction he was about to get, he’s thoroughly shocked when Phil’s eyes widen before a smirk tugs at his lips and he rolls his shoulders back. “I was, actually,” he responds smoothly, crossing his arms and quirking an eyebrow, almost in challenge. 

Then it’s Dan’s turn to blush, and he looks down at the box in his hands, a little more than uncomfortable with this turn of events. Sure, he can talk, but when he actually gets a response that rivals his own lewdness, he’s a little taken aback. “O-oh. Well, um… I hope you get yours soon.” He feels his face is literally about to burst into flames with how warm his cheeks are, and he almost wishes they would, just to save him from this embarrassment. 

Phil leans against his doorframe then, causing Dan’s eyes to widen as he shifts a little further away as subtly as possible. His hand comes to rest on the door handle, ready to shut it but not wanting to be rude. “Mhm, me too,” Phil hums. He tilts his head then before nodding to the box in his hands. “Do you need any help with that?” He asks, his gaze heated as he waits for Dan’s response.

Apparently just this question, and the implications behind it, renders Dan a little speechless at first. He stutters out something that isn’t words before clearing his throat and shaking his head once. “I’m not- I don’t…” he shakes his head again, trying to clear his thoughts. Suddenly, a memory comes to him, one of an Adonis look-alike, shirtless, in Phil’s flat. He suddenly frowns, anger flaring up at the idea that this man is here flirting with him, when he has that to go home to. “No, I don’t need any help.” He puts as much force behind his words as he can manage, moving to close the door. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a homewrecker; he wasn’t about to continue allowing this interaction to happen when this man was clearly taken. 

“Are you sure?” Phil’s smooth voice meets his ears, and Dan glares at him. 

“Positive,” he hisses. “I’m sure your boyfriend would be delighted for you to help him with something like that when yours comes in, but I’m all set, thanks.” He takes the surprised look he receives as his opportunity to shut the door. “Have a nice day,” he mutters, slamming the door and sliding the lock into place, satisfied by the loud click it makes as it slides over. 

Without even waiting for any sort of noise on the other side, Dan stomps to his room, tossing the package on his desk to be dealt with. Right now, he just needed a shower, and probably an Advil if his blossoming headache was anything to go by. 

\--- 

A couple uneventful days pass after the awkward interaction with Phil, giving Dan more than enough time to get over his embarrassment. Well, sort of. Maybe he lies awake at night, replaying the conversation and blushing every time he thinks about how blunt Phil had been, but honestly no one is there to prove it.

He's sat at his kitchen table on Friday, his laptop in front of him with a script for his radio show open in a word document. He was working on the show for next week, but the more he tried to focus, the more distracted he felt. His eyes would flit over to the balcony and he’d focus on the pigeons for a few minutes before his mind would wander to something else, like his rent coming due or his grandma’s birthday or-

A buzzing sound interrupts his distracted thoughts, and for a moment he’s relieved that at least now he has a good reason to be distracted. Then he’s annoyed, because he hadn’t been expecting anyone. And because of the last time he had an unexpected guest, he’s more than a little wary to go check the intercom. “Yeah?” He says carefully, pulling off the button to hear the answer. 

“Er, I have a delivery to make,” the man says, and Dan groans. Maybe this was his HDMI cables he had ordered, which would be great, considering he’d waited long enough.

“Right, come on up.” Dan presses the button to unlock the door for him, shuffling over to his kitchen table to wait. 

A few minutes later, there’s a sharp rap on his door. When he tentatively pulls the door open, he’s a little embarrassed to see the postman standing on the other side. It’s the same one it was over two months ago, the man who saw Dan in only his boxers that day he brought the strange pickle thing that Phil bought. Dan can’t help but frown at him, eyeing the box in his hand suspiciously as he signs for it. “Here you go, sir.” He hands the box over without fuss, and Dan nods, waving before shutting the door. 

He swears loudly when he looks at the label then, seeing a name that is arguably not his own at the top of the label. Groaning, he swings the door open again, ducking his head out in search of the delivery man. “Sorry, sir? This isn’t mine.” 

The uniformed man turns, a surprised look on his face. “Um…” He looks nervous, and Dan has to remind himself that this guy is new at this. 

Dan holds up the box and waves it around for emphasis, hearing something within it rattle. “Yeah, this says Phil Lester, I’m not Phil Lester.” 

Walking back over slowly, the man glances down at his delivery slip, then stares at the number on the door. “Sorry, this says 609. I delivered it to 609.” He shrugs then, as if there’s nothing more he can do. Dan stares down at the package and sees that he’s right; instead of 906, the address is clearly labeled with the number to his own flat. Phil likely just made a mistake typing it in, but that wasn’t Dan’s fault. 

When the postman turns to walk back down the hall toward the elevator, Dan shakes his head, his eyebrows knitting together. “No, can’t you like take it up to him instead?” 

The man barely looks at him, shrugging as if he feels sorry. “No, sorry, mate. I delivered it to the address specified on the package.” With that, he disappears around the corner, leaving Dan staring after him with a glare etched onto his face. 

“Fucking… ugh,” Dan grumbles to himself as he walks back into his flat. Despite the fact that the postman is out of sight and cannot hear him, he slams the door, seething. How the hell was he meant to go up there and face Phil, yet again, especially after what happened just a few days ago? He couldn’t. He would die of embarrassment, he was absolutely sure of it. 

Still, he couldn’t exactly keep it. He debated opening it to see what it was, almost wondering if it would even be something worth keeping. He wipes that thought away quickly, though, when he remembers what package Phil had said he was waiting on. A shudder involuntarily wracks Dan’s body, and he tries desperately to ignore the swell of arousal he feels at the thought. Nope, he was definitely not keeping it. Maybe he’d just knock on the door and leave it outside, like the coward he felt he was. 

He quickly dismisses that thought as well. He knows himself well enough to know that he wouldn’t go as far as denying himself the pleasure of seeing Phil again, if only to admire his looks. He’s taken! The voice in his head reminds him. He sighs, but he knows it’s true. So, this will have to be a quick trip, strictly business. 

Even with that thought, he is a bit excited as he slips his shoes on and tucks his phone in his back pocket. Just because he can’t touch doesn’t mean he can’t look. He can’t order from the menu, but he can certainly look at it. 

He makes a quick trip up to the ninth floor, and when he gets to Phil’s door he knocks twice, rather loudly. Trying not to allow himself to back out now, he stuffs his empty hand in his pocket, tucking the package under his other arm as he rocks back and forth on his feet. He’s already envisioning how cute Phil will look, how perfectly hot and untouchable he’ll be, and the thought is enough to make his knees go a little weak. 

However, when the door opens, he’s met with a completely different sight than the well put-together man he’d seen on the other occasions. Instead, Phil was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from York University, and over his shoulders was a thick blanket, which he clutched with the hand he was currently not using to steady himself on the door. So, to put it bluntly, he looked like death. 

Dan allows himself a moment to stare at him before he raises an eyebrow. “Not to be blunt, mate, but you look like shit,” he says eloquently, trying to hide a smile when Phil ducks his head. 

“Sorry,” he croaks, his voice scratchy and hoarse. He was clearly ill, and Dan felt a strong pang of sympathy. His dulled blue eyes drop to the box Dan’s still holding, and a rosy tint appears on the apple of his cheeks. 

Smiling slightly but feeling a little awkward about his earlier perverted thoughts due to Phil’s clear lack of wellbeing, Dan hands him the box. “If this keeps happening we might just have to become friends, just so this isn’t so awkward anymore,” he jokes, putting his hand in his pocket when Phil takes the box.

Phil smiles weakly, glancing down at the box. He sighs then, looking sort of resigned. “I’ll be honest, Dan, I may have put your number on the address on purpose.” He blushes as he confesses this, his gaze flicking down to the floor. 

Dan, left a little speechless by this revelation, can’t really process it at first. “Sorry, you what?” He definitely didn’t understand why Phil would have done this. He didn’t seem like the type to just enjoy being an inconvenience for other people, and while Dan knew their last encounter had ended on strange note, he really didn’t think Phil would have actually done it to be flirtatious. He had a boyfriend, after all. 

Nodding, Phil pushes his hair up a little, away from his forehead. “Yeah. I… I wanted an excuse to see you again.” He sounds only slightly embarrassed now but seems to grow more confident when he sees Dan’s confusion. “Obviously I’m ill and gross now, so like, that failed, but still.” He shrugs as if it isn’t a big deal, then shifts so he’s leaning more on the door. 

Dan realizes he should probably leave now and let Phil rest, so he takes a step away from the door. “Oh, well… I should get going, actually. I have… yeah. I’ll let you get some rest.” 

Before he can turn around, Phil steps closer. “Actually, Dan, um…” He hesitates then, before seemingly making up his mind. “Could I get your number? I know we don’t know each other, but I’d love to get coffee sometimes.” His voice is hopeful, and Dan is so inclined to say yes, but all he can think of is the shirtless man who opened the door that one day. Dan couldn’t comprehend that Phil was actually willing to ruin it with that man, and although Dan was sufficiently jealous of the boyfriend for getting Phil all for himself, he wasn’t going to knowingly be part of an affair. 

Deciding to just be honest, Dan sighs. “Phil… I would, but I can’t… do that…” He trails off, but at Phil’s disappointed expression, he rushes to explain. “I mean, sure, if you were single! I absolutely would. But… I’ve been cheated on before, and I would never, ever, willingly help someone else do it, I just… can’t.” 

At first, Phil’s face is disappointed, but the more Dan talks, the more confused he seems to get. By the time Dan’s done, Phil is staring at him, his head tilted and eyes squinting, as if that’ll give him a better look at Dan. Feeling uncomfortable under his intense gaze, Dan shifts, waiting for the other man to speak. 

“I’m not dating anyone, Dan,” he says finally, his voice sounding amused. 

Dan’s mind blanks suddenly, and it takes him a moment to fully comprehend what he means by that. “Oh… you’re… you’re not?” When Phil shakes his head, Dan’s eyebrows knit together. “But I thought… there was that guy, here. He answered the door… shirtless...” The more he talks, the stupider he feels, so he just shakes his head. “I’m sorry, what?” 

Phil smiles, covering his mouth to cough as he goes to answer. Dan steps forward, concerned, but Phil waves him off. “I’m not dating anyone. I haven’t in a long time, actually.” He shrugs, tugging his blanket closer to him. “I think you might’ve seen my friend PJ, actually. He stays over sometimes when he’s in the city.” 

The explanation checks out, obviously, because Dan doesn’t have any evidence to prove otherwise, but he still feels a little dumb for just assuming in the first place. Rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he can’t help but laughing at how ridiculous the situation was turning out to be. “Right… Well, that just makes me look like a massive twat,” he says awkwardly. 

A sweet smile crosses Phil’s face as he tilts his head to rest against the door. “You look pretty good to me, actually,” he says smoothly, causing Dan’s already flushed cheeks to brighten even more. 

“Come off it,” Dan laughs before bringing his hands back to his pockets. He stands there for a moment, unsure of what to say, before something occurs to him. Phil is single, apparently, and also interested in Dan. Which means…

“Do you mind coming inside for a minute? So, I can put this down and grab my phone? You still need to give me your number.” Phil steps away from the door and ushers Dan in, and he’s sort of helpless to deny it, as he’s literally being guided into the flat. 

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Dan steps in and closes the door behind him, suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings. He’s actually in Phil’s flat, following him to the kitchen. 

Phil drops the package onto the table before looking around, a confused look on his face. “Well, um, I thought my phone was in here…” His face suddenly lights up and he reaches a hand back, tugging it out of his back pocket, a triumphant smile on his face. “Here you go,” he says brightly, handing it over after unlocking it. 

Dan tries to hide his small smile as he programs his name in, but it’s hard. He was relieved that Phil was single, even more so now that he knew that Phil was also interested in him. Even still, he doesn’t send himself a text to get Phil’s number, still a little too shy to do that. “Here,” he hands Phil his phone back, tucking his hands in his pockets as he watches Phil’s face as he looks down at the screen. 

“Your last name is Howell?” He asks, smiling. Dan rolls his eyes, expecting the joke that he knows is coming. “If you decide to have kids, you should name one of them Wolf.” A smirk makes its way onto Phil’s face, and Dan pretends to be surprised. 

“Oh my god, that’s brilliant, I’ve never had literally anyone make that same exact joke before!” he says sarcastically, his smile giving away that he wasn’t actually annoyed. 

Phil laughs quietly, leaning back against the counter and tilting his head. “I know, Dan. I’m just really original, it might be a lot to handle at first.” 

Dan raises an eyebrow before nodding seriously. “Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll have to learn a thing or two from you with all that originality,” he jokes, dragging a hand through his hair, half-nervous from their banter. 

“Oh, I can definitely teach you a thing or two,” Phil smirks and winks, but he clearly doesn’t know exactly how to do the winking part and it just looks like he’s blinking to clear something out of his eye. 

“Okay, ew, I’m gonna go now before you molest me,” Dan giggles, inching backwards towards the door. 

Offended, Phil shakes his head. “Excuse me, I would never! I’m a gentleman!” 

Dan smirks at this, shrugging. “Ah, that’s too bad. I like it rough.” He winks this time, and since he can actually complete the motion without looking like he’s in pain, it has a different effect on Phil, who visibly gulps. 

“Oh, um…” Phil, clearly at a loss for something flirty to reply with, glances around the room before finally sighing, looking at Dan with an embarrassed smile. “You win. I can’t do the whole flirtatious banter thing,” he admits. 

Shrugging, Dan says, “Neither can I, but I can fake it.” 

Phil smiles at this, his head tilting to the side adorably as he studies Dan. “You’ll answer if I text you, right?” He asks tentatively, his voice full of hope. 

Dan smiles a little, nodding. “Sure, Phil.” He tries his hardest to play it off in a cool way, although the truth is he feels giddy at the prospect of actually getting to know Phil or, heaven forbid, going on a date with him. 

“Good, I’m sick of ordering things and having them sent to your apartment to try and get you to come see me.” Phil’s cheeks flush as he says this, and he looks down as if he hadn’t actually meant to say it aloud at all. 

Dan, surprised by this revelation, takes only a second to process it before laughing loudly. “You didn’t- oh my god, Phil. That’s precious.” He can’t hold himself back, giggling at the very idea of this man ordering things and intentionally putting in the wrong number to get them sent to Dan’s flat. Maybe the first time it was a mistake, but he was implying that the times after that had been on purpose. The very idea of this sends Dan into another fit of giggles, and Phil pouts at him. “Sorry-“ he breathes, calming himself down. “That’s just… that’s fucking cute, mate.” 

Phil rolls his eyes, crossing his arms. “I thought it was romantic, and clever,” he mumbles, and Dan grins, unable to help it as he takes a couple steps forward, brushing a strand of Phil’s hair back before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“It was definitely something,” he admits, smiling at the pink patches across Phil’s cheeks. “I’ll answer your text when you send it, though, so you don’t have to worry about going through that much trouble anymore.” He smiles again at the knowledge that Phil had honestly tried that hard to flirt with him, shaking his head as he steps back. 

“You better,” Phil warns teasingly. Dan rolls his eyes before moving to leave, stopping when Phil calls his name. “Oh, um… you might get another one of my packages soon…” he says awkwardly, a blush covering his cheeks. 

“Oh my god,” Dan cackles, wondering what on earth it would be. “Seriously?” 

Phil pouts. “Well, how was I supposed to know that it would work out this time and you would actually like me back? It just so happens that I ordered a couple things on the same day and, well…” 

Dan rolls his eyes, but nods nonetheless. “Sure, Phil. I guess I’ll see you in a couple days with your package.” 

Phil grins then, and Dan can tell by the cheeky smile that something awful is coming. “You can see me with my package whenever you’d like, Dan,” he giggles at the horrible innuendo, and Dan groans. 

“Goodbye! I’m leaving now!” he calls obnoxiously as he steps out of the flat and into the hallway. 

Phil responds in a similar way, and Dan makes his way down the hall to the elevator. 

So, what if he smiles to himself the whole way back to his flat? And so what if, when he gets a funny text from Phil a few minutes after stepping into his lounge, he sits and giggles at it for a full minute and a half before responding? That’s his business.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm always accepting prompts via tumblr or comments, so if you've got any suggestions shoot them over to phantasticworks, I love getting suggestions!!


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